


Christmas Eve will find me where the lovelight gleams.

by adorebughead



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bughead Secret Santa, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorebughead/pseuds/adorebughead
Summary: Betty Cooper arrives at the Andrews household for another of their traditional Christmas Eve celebrations, only to be greeted by a tall, dark stranger who she'd had a rude encounter with a few years prior. A little Christmas oneshot I wrote for the Bughead Secret Santa. <3





	Christmas Eve will find me where the lovelight gleams.

Betty Cooper had always loved Christmas for many reasons. The warmth amidst the cold, her mother’s homemade cookies, and their small town covered in a perfect blanket of snow. How everything seemed so magical, like something out of a pretty snow globe. Amongst this, there was the one event she looked forward to every year, probably more so than anything else: Christmas Eve at the Andrews household.

It had been a tradition for as long as she could remember; herself, her mother, father, sister, Archie, Archie’s dad, and his mom before she picked up and left without much warning. It had never affected their tradition, though. They wouldn’t let it. For the past three years there had also been Archie’s girlfriend, Veronica Lodge, who had taken that eerily empty seat at the table, and who Betty had become quick friends with from the moment that they’d met.

“Betty,” Archie beamed, pulling her into a warm hug as they all exchanged their season’s greetings and removed their scarves and coats.

“Hey, girl,” Veronica cried, also welcoming Betty with open arms. She was sporting her signature pearls, her dark hair styled in perfect, classic curls, and she was wearing a flawless, matte red lipstick that matched perfectly with her velvet dress.

“How are you both?” Betty asked, hauling her bag of presents into the house with her and agreeing to a small glass of wine courtesy of Fred who was now taking everybody’s orders.

That was when Veronica held up her left hand with a gigantic smile accompanied by a high-pitched squeal. Betty’s jaw instantly dropped at the sight of a large, sparkling diamond sat on her ring finger.

“What?! Oh my god!” She bellowed, pulling them both into a group hug and jumping up and down as she did so. “When? How? Where?”

“Last night,” she raised her brows and laughed at Betty’s excitement mirroring her own.

“Ok, I need the full story,” Betty cried with a pause, “but first I need to put these down.”

Archie then took the bag for her, apologising for not doing so earlier and jokingly dropping his arm weakly at its weight. “Betty, you didn’t have to get us all of this.”

“You say that every year, Arch, and every year I tell you it’s not going to change so get used to it.”

They all giggled as they pushed open the slightly ajar living room door and made their way inside. It was warm and cosy and smelt like cinnamon, just like it always did, as a candle burned atop the fireplace. It wasn’t until Betty’s eyes fell on an unfamiliar face perched comfortably on the sofa with a book in hand that she stopped in her tracks for a moment.

She hadn’t expected anyone else to be here, and Archie hadn’t said anything, which she thought was slightly odd.

“Betty, you remember Jughead, right?” He lifted his head at the sound of his name, his eyes meeting Archie’s then falling on Betty almost instantly. The sudden eye contact alarmed her.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she replied, which she then realised was half true. She did remember Archie having a friend from college who she met very briefly once. He was cold and rude and tall and dark, and they were about eighteen at the time. She couldn’t remember his name.

“Jug’s staying with us this Christmas,” Archie continued, answering the questions he already knew were running through her head.

Betty smiled politely, nodding along. “Has Archie made you try his gingerbread yet?”

“God, no,” Jughead replied with a snigger, “I would never touch anything Archie baked.”

She laughed at this, as Archie let out a slight _hey_. “That’s very smart of you.”

They continued to hold eye contact for a moment, their smiles faltering ever so slightly; there was a hint of intrigue there, as though they’d never properly looked at another person quite like each other before and they were trying to piece together some sort of puzzle.

He was incredibly attractive, there was no doubt about it. He had a James Dean kind of vibe about him, or perhaps Johnny Depp in Cry Baby. Betty lost herself for a moment imagining Jughead as Wade and herself as Allison, riding on the back of a motorcycle and revelling in how much her mother would hate it, until a voice quite abruptly dragged her back to reality.

“Betty?” Archie asked, seemingly for the third or fourth time.

She shook her head, feeling her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Sorry, what?”

“We’re going to decorate the tree before dinner.”

She raised a brow and smiled, memories of Christmas Eves gone by flooding into her brain all at once. 

“Sounds perfect.”

-

“I can’t believe they hadn’t decorated their tree already,” Jughead mumbled, his voice taking her off guard.

They had taken on the responsibility of decorating the left side of the tree, and Archie and Veronica had taken the right. The first five minutes had been filled with utter silence; Betty wondered if he was even going to talk to her at all.

Of course, usually she would be with Polly, but now that Polly was pregnant she rarely got involved with anything unless it included lying down and getting a foot massage. _I’m carrying extra cargo, I need my rest_ , she’d say. Not that Betty minded, in fact she enjoyed looking after her sister and future nephew or niece, but she wasn’t expecting to be decorating a Christmas tree with a guy she didn’t know.

And she certainly wasn’t expecting to enjoy it.

“Christmas tradition,” she replied with a shrug, “we decorate it when we’re all together. Always have.”

“We used to get pretty competitive as kids,” Archie interjected with a laugh, “mainly because Betty wouldn’t let me do anything, and if I did she would rearrange it completely.”

“Hey,” she carefully placed a small candy cane shaped bauble to a branch slightly above her eye level, “it’s not my fault you can’t do these things.”

“I feel you, B,” said Veronica, throwing a pile of lights at Archie, who struggled to hold them all at once. “Make yourself useful and untangle these, would you, babe?”

Archie shook his head with a huff, falling back into an arm chair. “You’re both as bad as each other.”

The silence returned, mainly due to the serious concentration filling the room. The sound of Elvis played on vinyl in the background, one of Betty’s ultimate favourites. _Whoa, oh, it's Christmas time, pretty baby_ _, and the snow is fallin' on the ground._

“So, we’ve met before?”

Betty looked up, his face much closer to her than she’d initially anticipated. His piercing stare caused her heart to flutter. “You don’t remember?”

His silence prompted her to giggle, and with a deep breath she continued with the story she had not once thought about again since it had first happened.

“It was a few years ago now. I came to visit Archie at college and he wasn’t home; you answered the door. You looked as though I’d just woken you up, you weren’t thrilled about it, but you did invite me in anyway. I offered to get a coffee with you to apologise for the wake up call and you ignored me and went back into your room. You slammed the door, and I remember it made me jump. You didn’t even take my coat.”

He raised a brow, as if surprised by the revelation that he had actually met her before paired with the fact he had no recollection of it. He also looked pretty embarrassed, naturally.

“Wow, what a dick.”

“Yeah,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “here’s hoping I don’t bump into him again any time soon.”

He smirked, looking down, something about her made him nervous, and she had a feeling that didn’t happen very often.

“Well, if you do, let me know, and I’ll soon put him in his place.”

He diverted his gaze back up after a moment and Betty thought that maybe the feeling was mutual.

-

Christmas dinner was just as wonderful as they had all remembered it to be. A table filled with turkey, roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, vegetables, stuffing, gravy, and more; everyone was spoiled for choice, especially Jughead, who was already filling up his plate with seconds as though he’d never eaten a decent meal in his life.

“This dinner is delicious, Fred,” Veronica professed with a smile, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she chewed her final mouthful.

Betty took a sip from her wine and placed the glass back down gently. “Yeah,” she agreed, “it’s lovely.”

“Well, I have to thank Alice for bringing over half of it. A good team effort as always.”

“My pleasure,” she replied with a smile, “thank you for having us.”

Betty had been placed in between Polly and Jughead, with Veronica, Archie and her mom opposite, and Fred and Hal on either end of the table. Everyone had fit, albeit a tiny bit cramped, but not enough so that anyone was complaining or sitting on top of one another.

Betty had never even noticed the close proximity of the chairs until now, mainly because of the fact her knee was almost touching Jughead’s, and she was very much aware of it.

_More so than she would’ve been with Mrs. Andrews, that’s for sure._

“So, Jug-head,” Alice started, dragging out his name as if it were a joke, he stopped with his mouth half full at the sound of his name. “What is it you do?”

He swallowed his food, clearing his throat slightly as he sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m a writer.”

“Really?” Betty interjected, pleasantly surprised at this fact, cutting off a visibly frustrated Alice before she could even respond. “Me too.”

“No way,” he raised his brows in a mutual interest, his face brightening, “what do you write?”

She turned towards him, their knees touching momentarily, but neither of them moved an inch.

“I write for The Register. It’s a newspaper here in Riverdale.”

“Ah, so you’re a journalist?”

“Trying to be,” she nodded as she crumpled up her napkin and placed it on top of her plate. “How about you?”

He exhaled, returning his attention to his now empty (for the second time) plate and shrugging slightly. “I just write what I can, here and there. Or, you know, _try to_.”

“He’s being modest,” Archie cried, causing Betty to swivel her head back around. “He’s writing his second novel, and he’s ridiculously talented.”

“You say that like you ever read books,” Jughead replied, as Archie rolled his eyes playfully.

“I read yours, and I think it’s something to be proud of.”

He diverted his gaze downwards again, then looked back up at Betty as she smiled. The warmth that she emitted was unlike anything he was used to, and he had an undeniable urge to grab it with both hands.

“You’ll have to show me some time,” she said. “If you want.”

The setting of the sun fought its way through the large window beside them, and Jughead found himself saying “ok.”

-

“Wow, this town really is like something out of a snow globe.”

She laughed. “Seeing as it’s your first time in Riverdale, I need to take you to Pop’s. Just one milkshake and you’ll never want to leave, I promise.”

After declaring during dessert that he had never even heard of Pop’s, let alone visited the place, Betty had instantly suggested taking him for a brisk walk to show him what he was missing. She always went out for a quick break after dinner, usually by herself just to clear her head and enjoy her own company for a while. Sometimes she just felt like she needed it, especially during the overwhelming craziness of the holidays. She wasn’t used to sharing this kind of moment with anyone other than herself, but tonight something had quite unexpectedly shifted.

She wasn’t sure what that _something_ was just yet, but she knew that it had, and a part of her knew that perhaps Jughead was the reason why.

“Unless that milkshake comes with a stable family and financial security, then I seriously doubt it.”

Her smile wavered as she let the next few moments of silence pass by naturally. “I know what it’s like to struggle at Christmas time,” she began, her voice a little shaky. “I know I have it good with what I have, and I’m grateful for that, but I often find it a difficult time of the year… you know?”

She didn’t want to get into too much detail with a guy she’d only just properly met. She didn’t want to say _because of my mental health_ , but somehow it made sense to him all the same.

“I know,” he replied with a sigh, before holding out his arm.

She furrowed her brows and smiled. “Is that an invitation to hold onto you, Mr. Jones?”

He grinned and shrugged. It was Christmas, she was beautiful, and she seemed to like him; what did he have to lose?

“If you want it to be,” he replied, a confidence he didn’t even know that he had in him, to which she hesitated for a few moments, before wrapping her arm around his as they continued on down the empty street.

A small laugh escaped her lips as her eyes fell on him once more. "And to think," she uttered, "that guy at Archie's dorm was such a dick."

He sniggered, his gaze dropping to his feet as he recalled what she'd previously told him. "I really am sorry about that," he swallowed. "I was an angry kid. Angry at the world, as cliche as it sounds. I don't even know that person anymore."

Tightening her grip on his arm, he looked back up at her to be met with a smile. _That damn smile._ He already knew there would be no going back from this.

"It's ok," she said warmly. "I quite like the person I'm with now."

When they arrived at Pop’s, which was much emptier than usual due to everyone being at home with their friends and families, Betty ordered two vanilla milkshakes and the pair sat in a booth at the back. One of her favourite songs was playing again, but this time it was Bing Crosby, and the distant sound paired with the perfect silence comforted her.

_Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree. Christmas Eve will find me where the lovelight gleams._

“This is nice,” Jughead declared to which Betty narrowed her eyes with a grin.

“What?” He smirked, removing his beanie and placing it on the table. He ran a hand through his dark curls and something about it made her feel giddy. _God, he really was gorgeous._

“Was that sarcasm?”

He held his hands up in defence and laughed. “No sarcasm, I swear.”

“Ok,” she joked, biting her lip as she giggled, “I believe you.”

“Here we go,” Pop announced, breaking the intense stare that had followed the biting of her lip as he placed the glasses down gently, “two vanilla milkshakes.”

She smiled, taking a sip from her straw and releasing a small _mmm_. Nothing could quite lift her mood than one of these. “Thanks, Pop.”

Twirling her straw around her fingers, she watched Jughead as he took his first sip, his face completely nonchalant and unreadable.

“Stop watching me,” he ordered playfully, rolling his eyes with a grin.

“Well, what do you think? The wait is killing me.”

He shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “It’s ok.”

“Ok?” She cried, folding her arms and raising a brow disapprovingly.

“Fine,” he replied, his eyes softening as they met hers, “it’s good. Really good.”

The red light of the familiar ‘diner’ sign illuminated their little corner, providing a safety and a comfort; it was almost like they were the only two people in the entire town, and something about it sparked something inside of them. They both felt it at the same time, or so they thought, catching each other’s eye and looking down nervously.

“The company isn’t so bad either,” he added sheepishly, to which she smirked and tucked a few strands of loose waves behind her ear.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

They talked for a while longer on the walk back to Archie’s house, about almost anything and everything. Jughead's familial issues, his insecurities and hardships growing up, how he was channelling all of that pain into his writing, and how Betty understood all of it, in her own way. She told him about her difficult relationship with her mother, her ongoing struggles with her mental health and how she was working her butt off to save up and leave Riverdale for good after being kept inside a perfect little box all of her life. For some reason, these two people who couldn’t be more outwardly opposite had discovered that they actually had a lot in common. They both felt like outsiders, even though you'd not have guessed it, and they saw something of themselves in the other that they'd been seemingly craving for their entire lives. It was a breath of fresh air. An unexpected glimmer of light. A Christmas eve that they would never have seen coming. 

“I never usually open up like this,” Betty admitted, looking at her feet, “especially not with someone I’ve just met.”

“Me neither,” he replied, his hands firmly tucked in his pockets as he exhaled, his breath visibly circulating in the cold air.

“You know,” she said after a few moments of comfortable silence, “Archie and Veronica shared a kiss on the first night they met. It seemed crazy to me at the time, but clearly something stuck.”

His lips curved into a smirk as he raised his brows and dug his hands further into his pockets. “Is that a hint, Betty?”

Realising what she’d said and how it sounded, her jaw dropped in horror as she began to blush uncontrollably.

“What? No. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” she stumbled over her words, pursing her lips together as she shook her head, silently scolding herself.

The silence returned, and she couldn’t help but feel mortified. Of course, she didn’t _really_ mean it, but at the same time if he kissed her she wouldn’t have pushed him away. _Had she just made an otherwise perfect evening unnecessarily awkward?_ It started to snow, and Betty regretted not grabbing her scarf on the way out as an unwanted shiver climbed up her spine.

She had had relationships before now, of course. Short lived, but relationships all the same. She had felt brief attraction and intrigue and she had felt the urge to be close to somebody, but never had it felt like this. Something about the way he made her feel was different, which she knew was crazy. He was everything she knew her mother would disapprove of. He wore a leather jacket and rode a motorcycle and rolled his own cigarette inside Pop's before they got up to leave. He was damaged and lost and everything she shouldn't be drawn to. She knew it, but she couldn’t help it. And, better yet, she didn't even care.

“It’s ok if you did,” he said quietly.

She pulled herself back to reality, her breath catching in her throat as she turned her head to study his expression; it took her a few moments to return to the conversation at hand, and she almost thought she’d misheard him. 

“What?”

He shrugged, looking out at the empty street before them as a few snowflakes settled in the dark curl peeking out of the front of his beanie. His voice was a little shakier than she’d heard it before.

“Maybe something will stick.”

She stopped still, realising what he was saying, as he walked a few steps ahead then stopped to turn and face her when realising she wasn’t following; clearly not expecting her to halt so suddenly. His eyes finally met hers before falling down to her lips, and then back up again. He looked unsure, as though he might be crossing a line and as though he was waiting for her to reject him, something people had been doing his whole life. Something he was much too used to, let alone from someone who was practically a stranger.

_But Betty Cooper wasn’t like everyone else._

Instead, she inhaled deeply and felt her heart beating against her rib cage. She edged forward and knew that she didn’t know anything other than there was nothing else she would rather do and nowhere else that she’d rather be right there in that very moment. _After all, were they really strangers after sharing their entire life stories with one another in the space of a couple of hours?_ _After all, did it even really matter?_

She finally exhaled as she closed the space between them, listening to her gut for perhaps the first time in her life and pulling his lips to hers as she gripped onto the collar of his leather jacket. It was slow at first, just two people breathing each other in for the first time, before melting into it as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She felt his cold hands find her waist and, in turn, she moved hers upwards to wrap around his neck.

This was unlike anything Betty had ever done in her life. It was spontaneous, dangerous, exciting, alien, yet strangely familiar; as if they’d known each other for much longer than just one evening. As though this was something they’d both been waiting for ever since they could remember. She could taste the lingering hint of nicotine on his lips, and something about it made her only want him further.

After a few moments, they pulled away, their breathing heavy. Betty kept her arms draped around Jughead’s neck and finally met his eyes once more. There was a new warmth looking back at her, as though she’d just ignited something in him he didn’t know was there. And finally, she smiled, prompting him to do the same.

Suddenly, the snowfall became even heavier, creating a thickening blanket along the ground and simultaneously starting to drench them. Betty squealed at the abrupt downpour, instinctively grabbing his hand as the both of them began to run, their laughter intertwining with the echoing of their heavy footsteps. Her coat didn’t even have a hood, and she could already feel her dampening hair dripping down her back.

“Come on,” she cried, “we need to get back.”

He interlaced his fingers with hers and stopped for a moment, pulling her against him once more, his face a little more serious this time. Without even a second thought, he kissed her again, easing into it even more so this time as the snow melted into their embrace. They found themselves thinking that they could get used to this. When they parted again slowly, he gently pushed her hair out of her face. As she reopened her eyes, he shook his head with a smile.

“Well,” he breathed, his voice low and coarse. “I certainly didn’t see that one coming.”

She beamed, a giggle escaping her lips as his skin brushed against hers.

“Perhaps if you’d have taken my coat it would’ve happened much sooner.”

His lips twisted into a smirk as he nodded in defeat, running his eyes over every detail of the girl he knew he’d never forget again. “Touché, Cooper,” he replied with a squeeze of her hand, “touché.”

And there they were, the girl next door and the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, running through the snow hand in hand to get back into the warmth as they laughed louder than they had ever done before, shushing each other every so often, the gesture only making them laugh even harder. They didn’t really know what they were doing or where they were going, how things were going to develop or if they’d even see each other again after that night, but what they did know was that none of it even mattered. Because here and now, on a small street in Riverdale on a quiet Christmas Eve, the glimmer of lights illuminating the glistening of the snow: maybe, just maybe, something had stuck.


End file.
